


Dream and Reality

by W_Ing_W_Ing9



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: A Little GTop, Almost Rape, Bittersweet, GTOP, M/M, Semi Smut, a lot of swearing towards the end, abused and hurt jiyong, fluffy af, gdyb - Freeform, savior friend youngbae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 15:56:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8108470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/W_Ing_W_Ing9/pseuds/W_Ing_W_Ing9
Summary: Jiyong had been abused by his father since his sister and mother left him. Alone and lonely, Jiyong doesn't have a friend he desperately needs by his side. A friend he can go to when times are hard, when the fear draws him to a breaking point, until one night. After a cruel beating, Jiyong finally finds one. One made by his own thoughts.





	

     The kick came right at his ribs, causing Jiyong to gasp at the sharp pain. He curled up, arms over his head, as the hits came. It hurt, it was terrifying, and it was hell. Desperate for the hits to stop, Jiyong cried out an apology and a promise to not do it again. All he wanted was to sing; he never wanted to make his father so angry. It was just one his self-composed songs, something small but hopeful to him. Not...not  _this_. 

      "You little piece of shit," A hand grabbed his wrist and tried to hit him but Jiyong's head was turned so painfully away, all the fists and punching hit his collarbones and chest and stomach. 

      "Stop, please," Jiyong sobbed, the tears coming either as water from his head being dunked or tears. "I promise, I won't do it again, I'm sorry!"

      Jiyong was thrown against the bathtub and his head hit the edge, making Jiyong see stars as he yelped. He curled, shutting his eyes closed. His father was cursing, cussing, calling him names that stabbed Jiyong. It finally stopped when there was the slap of the belt being thrown down and Jiyong flinched, his sobs freezing in fear. 

      "Get back to your room. I don't even want to see your face," His father spat and Jiyong didn't move as his father turned on his heels, walking out, with cuss words streaming from his mouth. Sobbing quietly, Jiyong stood on shaky legs to the end of the hallway and into his room. He closed the door, the darkness enveloping him into its calm silence. He didn't bother to clean up the mess his father made when he came in--he went straight to bed. Pulling the covers over his body, he curled up and cried into the sheets. 

      It was terrifying. 

      Fearful. 

      And so painful. 

      Jiyong cried at the pain his body was in. He cried for this pride and heart that was getting hurt from the names. He cried for all the wishes he'll never get. He cried because he wanted someone right now to lean on and cry on. He cried because he was all alone in this hellhole. He cried because whatever he had was all broken. He cried because he was so scared. 

     To him, it was a neverending cycle. 

     Tonight, he'd cry. 

     Tomorrow morning, he'd look into the mirror with swollen eyes and new bruises. 

     That night, he may or may not get hit again. 

     Jiyong didn't need anything else. But he needed someone. Anyone. 

 

     After falling asleep without realizing it, Jiyong felt arms around his waist, his back warm. It should've felt alarming, but Jiyong felt warmth and assurance so he continued to fall asleep.  

 

     Jiyong woke up with pains all over. Groaning softly, Jiyong turned over to his back. God, it felt like he got hit by a truck. He sat up slowly, seeing bruises and red marks on his arms. He opened the curtains to let the sunlight into the dark room, and instantly felt a pang in his chest. Over his floor, his mic and notebook and all the equipment he used to record was thrown on the floor in a littering mess. Jiyong glanced at the clock and slowly moved to the edge of the bed, unwrapping his legs from the sheets. After he freed them, he let them dangle over the edge, staring at the bruises. 

     They looked horrible. It was a sprinkle of big and small ones along his hips and thighs. It'd been wrong to be wearing shorts as comfort wear in the house. Jiyong slid off and with a heavy heart, he picked up the pieces. He set them all together and put them on his desk as it always was. The sight gave him little comfort, the old things back to their place. 

     Jiyong opened the door, listening first for any signs of life. The TV wasn't on, his father wasn't out yet and that's when Jiyong deemed it was safe. He went into the bathroom, closing the door slightly and faced the sink, not raising his eyes to look at himself in the mirror. He didn't want to know how he looked like. He never did after those nights. But he did anyway. 

     Swollen red eyes. Messed up hair. Bruises. Dried up tears on his face. 

     It was the same every morning so what's the use of looking? It'll only make him feel shittier. 

     Jiyong sniffed, feeling new tears and he opened the cabinet, reaching to the top shelf for the small knife he kept there. He took it, taking off the thick laminated over off to reveal its thin blade. Holding his wrist out, Jiyong didn't hesitate to slide the blade along the pale skin. It didn't even hurt until there was the sting at the end when Jiyong finished the small inch long cut. Red slid down his skin, dripping on the bowl of the sink and Jiyong let a hot tear fall. 

     To most people, it would've hurt. But to Jiyong, he relished it. 

      _I just want to be loved._

 

    At school, Jiyong wasn't a nobody. He was actually well known. For his videos of rapping and dancing. He uploaded small 1 to 2 minute and a half videos onto Youtube, rapping lines. They grew popular with over 50,000 views. And soon grew popular at school. It wasn't something Jiyong liked to brag about--more like the opposite. He didn't tell people he uploaded it. He let them find out on their own. As for the dancing, he didn't record it himself. It was his dancing crew that did. They'd send the recording to Jiyong and that's when Jiyong would just upload it. 

     So when Jiyong went to school, he didn't expect so many people to pat him on the back and tell him how good he was at rapping. It made Jiyong warm and again ( _fucking hell_ ) he had to put on the best smile, the smile that would show nothing, and thank them for the compliments and praise. It was hard to put on a self that no one could even doubt his real self. Sometimes, randomly, Jiyong would just break down in the restroom, crying into his arms and cry silently. Sometimes Jiyong wanted to be alone (which felt even worse) and ate lunch by himself behind the school. 

     It was hard even at school. 

     "Hey, Jiyong, what happened there?" 

     Jiyong lifted his arm and looked at his friend, Seunghyun. "Huh?" He asked, not sure if he heard him right. 

     Seunghyun's brows came together into a slight frown and he took Jiyong's arm but as soon as the fingers touched his skin, Jiyong pulled away, suddenly self-conscious and  afraid.  _Did...he know? How? Did he see it?_ Jiyong thought, heart racing. He stared at Seunghyun's surprised look and he smiled a little, apologetic. "Sorry," Jiyong said and Seunghyun nodded, looking a little numb. 

      "No, sorry," Seunghyun apologized. 

      Awkward and uncertain silence fell over the table they shared in the library. Jiyong kept his head bowed, hand holding the pen as he scribbled some lyrics onto the notebook. He kept catching Seunghyun glance at him and Jiyong felt guilty. Guilty for hiding the cut he made his morning. And scared that Seunghyun might see him differently. 

      There was too much fear in Jiyong's life. 

 

      Sometimes Jiyong didn't feel safe exposing skin in the house. It was a strange and frightening feeling of the "What if".  _What if Dad really...really..._ Jiyong never finished the thought. He didn't want to think about it. He tried not to. But it was hard. And for fuck's sake, he was a boy.  _But what if..._ Jiyong shook his head and went out, opening the door and letting the shower's steam out. He didn't see his father and almost hit him if it wasn't for the gasp. 

      "I'm-I'm sorry," Jiyong stuttered as his father stared at him. "I didn't...see you there...," Jiyong looked up and saw his father staring. Not at his face. He was staring lower. And that's when Jiyong realized he was wearing shorts that served as his sleeping wear. Face flushing red, Jiyong merely stood there, biting his lip, new fear creeping along his spine and along his shoulders. Jiyong couldn't take it anymore and made a bold choice to murmur another apology, pushing past his father and going into his room. 

      It wasn't safe. 

      Nothing was. 

      Jiyong closed the door and felt warm relief seep through his cold toes and upward. 

       _I really can't do anything without fearing or thinking things huh..._ Jiyong thought bitterly, sitting on the edge of his bed. He dried his hair and folded his knees to his chest, the position comfortable as he reached for his lyric notebook. If there was something precious to Jiyong, it was his lyric notebook. It was small and easy to hide with it's thin spine. His fears and wants were all in there, molded into rapping lyrics. 

      Jiyong flipped through the pages, finding some embarrassing. Some of them brought back memories like how one time his father almost drowned him in the sink.  _The water was like cold winter through a forest._ Wrote one line and Jiyong slid a finger against the pen written font. Another was  _Wish I had that one someone so when I turn, there's someone behind me._ It felt bittersweet and Jiyong closed the notebook, shoving it under the pillow. He breathed in and out, drying his hair before he let it air-dry and threw the towel across the chair's seat. 

      Jiyong laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing for the 100th time that he wanted a friend. Just someone he could go to when times are hard. Someone he could cuddle and giggle with. Someone Jiyong could cry and lean on. Someone Jiyong could love. So why was it so hard to find someone like that? Someone warm and understanding. Jiyong closed his eyes, turning to his left. He pulled the covers over him, shutting off the lamp. 

      At times where he felt desperate, Jiyong slept it off. 

     It'd feel a little better in the morning anyway. 

 

     Jiyong was awake this time. Arms encircled his waist and his back met with overwhelming warmth. It felt almost motherly and too warm to be true. He felt like if he moved, the source of heat would disappear so he thought twice about really looking over his shoulder. (It wasn't his father, Jiyong was 100% sure). Jiyong swallowed and decided to turn his head. 

      When he did, the sight almost scared him to death. 

      "Who...are you?" Jiyong whispered, shocked and disbelieved. He sat up and so did source.

     The source of heat had turned out to be a boy. He was half naked, his torso bare and lean with muscles. The arms around Jiyong's waist were strong and promising. He was handsome with chiseled lips and an angular face. He had small eyes but that wasn't the least of it. His hair was white, puffy and smooth, with bangs reaching his eyes. Jiyong didn't know who this was and how he got in. It was almost creepy. But strangely, Jiyong felt pulled, almost reminded. Of what, he didn't know. 

      The boy smiled, eyes disappearing into eye crescents that really got Jiyong smiling a little. "My name's Youngbae," The boy's voice was almost soft and clear. "I'm the person you wished for."

     Jiyong stared at him. "B-But, how'd you," Jiyong turned to see his window but it wasn't even open. There wasn't anything in the room that was open. So how did this handsome boy get in his room? 

     "I'm part of your imagination, Jiyong," Youngbae took his hand and his thumb slid gently over Jiyong's bandaged cut. "You can only hear, feel, and see me."

     Jiyong felt it wasn't real. Like something was wrong. No, that wasn't right. It felt right. And despite all the confusion and question, Jiyong smiled. He really, really smiled. "You're the person that I desperately needed?" Jiyong whispered, Youngbae's thumb traveling up his forearm. His fingers were warm on Jiyong's chilled skin. 

      "I'm real in your head," Youngbae's face came close and Jiyong had to move his head away in surprise. "I'll be here when you need me. I'll be the person you can love."

     Jiyong could almost feel his breath on his face and Jiyong knew that if he moved a little, their lips would be touching. 

     "I can love you?" Jiyong asked and Youngbae smiled gently. 

     "You can do more than just love me," Youngbae answered. 

     Jiyong let out a small sigh of relief. Of happiness that he actually cried. He leaned his head on Youngbae's shoulder, hands on his shoulder blades. Youngbae's hand came up to his shoulders, hugging him and Jiyong hugged him tightly, making sure that this wasn't a dream. After a few moments, Jiyong sniffed and pulled away, looking shyly at Youngbae. 

     It was strange in so many ways. He was hugging someone who claimed to come from his imagination. But it felt so, so, so right, it hurt. And honestly, Jiyong was in love. It didn't matter if he was gay or not. Jiyong found someone. "You promise to be here when I need you?" Jiyong asked, keeping his voice quiet. 

     Youngbae let out a small chuckle. It made Jiyong fall hard. "I promise, Jiyong."

     "Then, can you hug me to sleep?" Jiyong asked, his voice shy. 

     Youngbae nodded and together they laid on Jiyong's bed. Youngbae pulled Jiyong to his neck where he rested his head on his chest, hearing the steady heartbeat. It felt so real. Jiyong could feel his arms around his waist and back, promising of a good cuddle and sleep. Youngbae smelled of the sun and a smell that reminded him of a warm sun on a meadow. It smelled homely and Jiyong hugged Youngbae back, fingers lightly pulling the strands in his hair. 

     "Please stay with me," Jiyong begged, looking up at him. "Don't...don't leave me."

     Youngbae pressed his lips against Jiyong's forehead, making Jiyong feel butterflies in his stomach. It felt so warm, Jiyong momentarily forgot about his father and the anxiety. He closed his eyes and felt Youngbae's chin on Jiyong's head. The proximity was close, just the way Jiyong ideally wanted.

      _I can really love this person._ Jiyong thought giddily. He moved closer to Youngbae and fell asleep.  

 

      He was gone when Jiyong awoke. 

      But he could still feel the warmth and the arms around his waist. It made Jiyong feel a whole better and he still couldn't believe it. But Youngbae's promises seemed so sincere, Jiyong kept onto them like grabbing flying ribbons in a raging wind. And in a new light, Jiyong was looking forward to each night. 

 

       He was clean tonight and Jiyong could see it when his father didn't even spare him a look as Jiyong went inside his room, closing the door. In the dark, Jiyong felt a thrill of excitement as he whispered. "You there?" His voice was soft with hesitation. 

       "I told you I will," Youngbae's voice was near Jiyong's ear and Jiyong giggled softly, turning to see him. He wore a white v-neck shirt with ripped jeans, a different outfit from yesterday night. Jiyong reached for his hand and he felt warm, and in amazement, Jiyong grasped his hand. "How are you so warm when you said I made you from my imagination?"

      Youngbae squeezed back. "Because you're always cold. It's winter now and you're still only sleeping in thin sheets," Youngbae said and his voice was soft and his hand began to trail upward Jiyong's wrist. "So I'm warm to keep you warm."

      Jiyong couldn't find himself to respond what Youngbae had said because of Youngbae's electrifying touches. His fingers were hot, sending pleasured shivers down Jiyong's arm. And despite feeling foreign to the feeling, Jiyong felt a rush of anticipation. He stood still as Youngbae took a step closer, their chests almost touching and his head was beside Jiyong's. 

     His chest ached from the deafening sound of his heart beating and Jiyong didn't tell Youngbae to stop when his hand rested faintly on his hips. Fingers hooked slightly on the jeans and he could feel skin against skin. Jiyong shut his eyes and there was a small chuckle. He opened them and saw Youngbae stare at him. "Is this what you want?" Youngbae asked quietly, a smile gracing his lips. 

      The question flustered Jiyong as he spluttered, mind racking to come up with an answer. Was this what he wanted? To be touched? Jiyong wanted a friend. Someone he could love and be loved back. But sexually...was this what Jiyong wanted? 

      Jiyong didn’t know how to answer him and asking for more time to think about it seemed to be a foolish question. Youngbae must’ve read his mind (or maybe he could really read his mind because who else knew he was actually cold with his thin bedsheets) because his smiled understandingly. 

      “It’s okay,” Youngbae took his hand off and Jiyong felt the absence of it. “We can take it easy.”

      Jiyong nodded a smile of his own on his face. “Yeah,” He said softly. 

 

     The same night, Jiyong had a dream. Usually he had nightmares of his father but this time, it was a dream. He dreamed that he was sleeping in the sun, feeling warm and content. And that was it.  _ Warm and content.  _ He felt no worries, no anxiousness, no fear, just at peace. So really, when he woke up, Jiyong felt a deep pit of regret and want. He turned to face Youngbae who opened his eyes, half-lidded with sleep and he smiled. "I had a dream," Jiyong said and Youngbae only brought him close to his chest.   


     "I know," Youngbae said beside his ear. "But you're going to be tired, so you should sleep for two more hours." 

     So it was 5 am, then. 

     Jiyong tried to as he closed his eyes. But he couldn't. He wanted to try something and honestly, it was embarrassing but Jiyong just...wanted to try. He didn't want to trigger morning sex. He just wanted to stare into his eyes and kiss him. "Can I try something?" Jiyong asked and Youngbae looked down at him, his chin brushing against his hair. 

     "Okay, Jiyong," There was an amused huff in his breath and Jiyong up, Youngbae following the sitting position. 

     "Can you sit up more?" Jiyong asked and he could feel his cheeks flushing. 

     Looking at him in question with an eyebrow raised, Youngbae did and Jiyong placed a hand on his shoulder and taking a bold breath, Jiyong pushed him down as he straddled his hips. Youngbae's eyes went a little wide as his head hit the pillow softly and his hands hovered in the air, unsure, as Jiyong bit his lip. Outside, it was getting lighter, and Jiyong leaned towards Youngbae's face. 

      "Jiyong," Youngbae began but Jiyong pressed his lips against his to stop him. 

      And then, it seemed Youngbae understood because Jiyong felt his lips move against his in a slippery and breathy kiss as warm hands held his hips. A hand came up to the back of his head, pulling him closer so Jiyong put hands on either side of Youngbae's head, their kiss deepening with every slide of the lips. Jiyong felt warm, tingly, and just so happy, he pulled away, panting slightly. 

     Youngbae looked dazed, eyes clouded a little, lips parted slightly and his finger trailed down Jiyong's face to his lips. "You wanted to try kissing me?" He asked. 

     Jiyong smiled in embarrassment, not moving a bit. "Yeah," He admitted and Youngbae pulled him down for another kiss. 

     He tasted like sunflowers. If that even existed. 

     "God, your lips," Youngbae breathed. 

     Jiyong giggled softly and they kissed until the first ray of the sun streamed in. 

 

     His lip was bleeding and there was a gash on his forearm as Jiyong cried into Youngbae's shoulder, gripping his shirt so tight, his knuckles hurt. Youngbae held him into a comfortable spooning position. "I want it to stop," Jiyong sobbed. 

     He felt Youngbae's head rest against his and Jiyong cried harder. 

     It hurt. His body felt it was on fire. His lip hurt. The gash on his forearm was bleeding and it wasn't the sting of the small knife. He didn't even remember how he got it, he only remembered being grabbed by the forearm and being forced against the wall, fingers pulling his hair back. He was kneed in the stomach, he was called a whore and slut, a girl wannabe, and many more Jiyong didn't want to think about it. 

     "Shhh," Youngbae's voice cut through his sobs, his hand stroking the small of his back. "Shh...you're going to be fine."

     Jiyong hung onto the words, his sobs quieting as he sniffed and continued to lay on his shoulder. "I'm glad you're here," Jiyong numbly said. 

     He could almost hear the smile. "I told you I'd be here," He reminded him. 

     Jiyong smiled tiredly, his eyes feeling puffed and still warm from tears. "Yeah..."

     Youngbae held him for a long while before he took Jiyong's arm to inspect the gash. "It's good it's not too deep but its' bleeding a lot," Youngbae said and he reached over and pulled the light on on the lamp. "Where's your first aid kit?" He asked. 

     "Under my desk," Jiyong replied and Youngbae went to get it. He sat on the edge of the bed now, opening the box quietly. He took out the small bottle of disinfectant and used a small dab of cotton. It stung and hurt but by now, Jiyong could say he was used to it. Youngbae applied a spread of cream on it before wrapping it in gauze, not too tight, not too loose. 

     "Okay," Youngbae said, putting back the things in and setting the box down on the floor. "You okay?" 

     Jiyong nodded, wiping the blood away from his lip. Youngbae wiped his tears away with a swipe of his thumb as he came close. 

     "You're going to be fine, Jiyong," Youngbae took his face, stroking his cheek. "Just one more year, you're going to be get out of here. You're going to go to university, you're going to be who you want to be. You'll be loved and happy."

     Jiyong stared at him with hot eyes, tears threatening to spill over any moment. "Even if I want to be a singer?" Jiyong whispered like it was a forbidden word. 

     Youngbae smiled warmly at him. "Sure, why not?" 

     Jiyong smiled back, a hot tear trailing down his cheek. "Really?"

     Youngbae hugged him. "I'll make it happen."

     "Hey, you doing fine?" Seunghyun asked. 

     Jiyong was hanging out with Seunghyun, for the first time of the year. His father had wordlessly left for a two-week business trip. He had time after school and decided to use that time to hang out with his school friend. So they decided to go to the lake two hours away. Jiyong wanted to stay with Youngbae the whole day and do boyfriend stuff but the latter had told him that Seunghyun would prove to a good friend later in his life. And so Jiyong decided to hang out with Seunghyun today. 

     "Yeah, why?" Jiyong asked as he swung his legs back and forth, feet touching the water's surface. 

     "I mean, you look better nowadays but before," Seunghyun looked down at his lip, as if guilty just bringing it up. "I saw cuts on your arm and..." He glanced at Jiyong. 

     Jiyong smiled a little. "I'm doing fine, seriously," He said when Seunghyun gave him a raise of an eyebrow. "I'll just tell you since you've already noticed. I'm being abused," Jiyong said, facing Seunghyun. 

      Seunghyun's face slackened with shock. 

      "After Mom and Sis left, Dad began to abuse me since junior high," Jiyong said. "That's why I come to school and pretend everything's okay when it isn't. But I have someone," Jiyong said. "Not just you, but someone else."

      Seunghyun didn't ask who this someone else was but relief visibly relaxed his face's tense muscles. "To think you've been living like that without no one by your side," Seunghyun bitterly said. "I'm sorry for not noticing."

     Jiyong shook his head, still smiling. "I never told you. How would've you known when I'm good at hiding things?" 

     "Still," Seunghyun insisted. "I would've still..."

     "Still what?" Jiyong asked calmly, looking at him and Seunghyun looked at him from his lap. "What would've you done?"

     "Call the police or something!" Seunghyun said, voice raising. "I would've gotten your dad arrested and-"

     "And put me in an orphanage?" Jiyong said and Seunghyun stared at him. 

     "Seunghyun, it's not easy," Jiyong answered. "No matter how better it is for me, it doesn't work that way."

     Seunghyun stayed quiet and he only moved closer to wrap an arm around Jiyong's shoulders. "Sorry," Seunghyun's deep voice filled the silence of the air. "I got ahead of myself. I just want you happy. So, if you need anything, or if something happens, come to me. It doesn't matter how late or early, I'm always home."

     "Thanks," Jiyong gratefully smiled and Seunghyun smiled down at him as they stared at the lake. 

 

     When Jiyong got home, the first thing he saw was warm lights. It was a sight to see in the gloomy color of the house and it was everywhere. The house wasn't so big, considering it had three rooms with a bathroom. The living room was just tables, couches, and a TV and it was lit. There were small bulbs around the walls, emitting almost a dim atmosphere and Jiyong smiled, knowing fully well who it was. 

     Arms encircled his waist and Jiyong giggled, leaning back into Youngbae's chest. "You did this for me?" Jiyong asked and Youngbae's chuckle answered him. 

     "You wanted to do boyfriend stuff so I thought this was boyfriend stuff," Youngbae whispered into his ear. 

     Jiyong turned to face him and he kissed him, wrapping his arms around his neck. "Thank you," Jiyong breathed against the kiss. "I love it."

     Youngbae smiled and their foreheads lightly touched. "There's a playlist on your phone I want to hear with you." He said. "Want to get your speaker?"

     Jiyong nodded and went inside his room to get it. He changed into his comfort clothes and brought out his speaker. When he came out, Youngbae was spreading a blanket on the couch, looking ready. Jiyong smiled at sat beside him and Youngbae took his phone. "You wearing something bold," Youngbae said in his ear as he searched through the playlist. 

    Laughing and looking embarrassed, Jiyong moved closer to him as they laid down together, the song starting with birds twittering and a gentle roar of a waterfall before beat hit the chords into a chill tune. Jiyong leaned against Youngbae's chest as they spooned, listening. "What song is this?" Jiyong asked. 

     "Edelweiss by Mome," Youngbae answered. 

     Jiyong hummed as he closed his eyes, feeling content. He no longer felt the fear of entering the house. He felt loved, for the first time, and it spread warmth in his chest. He felt lips on his forehead, fingers on his skin. Jiyong giggled and it died when the fingers slid along the line of his side. He stayed completely still and let Youngbae touch the skin of his side. "Is this okay?" Youngbae asked in his ear as the song played. But even Jiyong couldn't hear it. 

     Jiyong nodded. "Isn't it better this way?" Jiyong made Youngbae sit up and again, like that morning, Jiyong straddled his hips. But this time, something was sparking, something warm was pooling in Jiyong's stomach. He could feel the anticipation real this time. And it looked Youngbae was feeling it too. His fingers slipped under the fishnet knit sweater Jiyong wore and Jiyong let his head fall onto his shoulder. 

     His breathed hitched when he felt Youngbae's thumb brush against his nipple. He felt Youngbae freeze and then Jiyong moved his hips a little and that's when Youngbae spoke into his ear. "Are you okay with it?" He asked again. 

     Jiyong stared at him, lifting his head and he nodded, smiling as he stroked his cheek. "Yeah," Jiyong breathed. "I'm ready."

     Youngbae took his lips with a wet kiss, promising and warm. Jiyong opened his mouth and moved his lips wetly against Youngbae's. His hand was moving to his bare thighs and slipping under the fabric of his shorts. Jiyong broke the kiss, letting out a breathy gasp. Youngbae pulled his hand away, now moving both hands up Jiyong's torso. "God, you're...," He was panting. "You're really sexy, Jiyong."

     Jiyong was too immersed in the warm and electrifying touches to reply. Youngbae was warm, really warm, and his touches felt right. Youngbae pulled the sweater off, throwing it aside and Jiyong pulled at his shirt. They both were naked in the torso and Jiyong spread his hands along the muscle in his stomach and chest. He could feel Youngbae's heartbeat beating against his palm and his eyes met Youngbae's. He could hear nothing but Youngbae's beat and his breath and Jiyong kissed him. 

     This is what Jiyong wanted for a long time. To be loved and to be touched. He didn't need anything else but Youngbae. Jiyong had never had sex, nevertheless, know how gay sex worked, but Youngbae did when he felt a finger slip under his tailbone and slide down. Jiyong moaned, deciding to just let it all out. 

     "I'll be gentle," Youngbae promised and Jiyong nodded, holding onto his shoulders. 

     "Okay." 

 

    To Jiyong, mornings were the best. Sometimes he woke up before Youngbae did, and he'd slightly turn his body (so not to wake him) to see him sleeping. White hair covered his eyes and forehead and Jiyong always felt like stroking it. Youngbae had slept with his head on the pillow, arms grasping it from underneath so he slept on his chest. Jiyong had slept into the curve of his body after...after the  _sex_. 

    Jiyong flushed red as he burrowed his head into his arms, trying not to think about last night. He whined a little until he felt Youngbae wrap and arm around his waist. There was a chuckle as Jiyong was pulled into his body. "You're embarrassed?" Youngbae asked.

    Jiyong looked up at him, cracking his eyes through his fingers. Youngbae smiled, kissing his forehead. "You want breakfast?" He asked and Jiyong put his hands off from his face. 

     "You can cook?" Jiyong asked and Youngbae shrugged. 

     "You had an ideal type," Youngbae said. 

     Jiyong giggled loudly. "So you're my perfect everything?" 

     "I'm not a girl, though," Youngbae said and Jiyong laughed. 

     "God, Bae, you're perfect," Jiyong said, kissing his cheeks. 

 

     "Do you also know about my future?" Jiyong asked.

     Youngbae held onto Jiyong's hand as Jiyong walked on the log, looking down to balance himself. He had walked beside him on the dirt road.

     "I do," Youngbae replied and Jiyong glanced at him.

     "What did you mean that I'll meet someone?" Jiyong asked again and with the help of Youngbae's hand, Jiyong landed on the dirt road with ease. He walked side-to-side with him now.

     "If I tell you, you'll only try to prevent it, so I can't tell you that," Youngbae smiled.

     "What about you?" Jiyong said and Youngbae slowly came to a stop, still holding his hand.  

     Youngbae only smiled and Jiyong returned with an uncertain one. They continued to walk the trail. Jiyong drove to the lake where he was with Seunghyun to go swimming and visit the meadow in the center of the forest together. Youngbae already knew how it looked from his memories, but Jiyong wanted to personally show him.  

     "I wish you were real," Jiyong said, ruefully. "Not part of my imagination. It feels like I'm hallucinating or dreaming."

     "Me too," Youngbae admitted and Jiyong smiled, looking at him. "I wish I was real too so I could really love you."

     "You already love me," Jiyong reminded and Youngbae lightly shook his head.  

     "I want to really love you. Real love, not love you wanted from your imagination," Youngbae said, looking distant.  

     Jiyong didn't--he couldn't--find an answer to that. Instead, he held his hand tighter. "I love you," He shyly said.  

     Youngbae's smile made Jiyong's chest warm. "Me too."

     To Jiyong, it also felt like a dream. He still couldn't really believe Youngbae was part of his imagination, not a real person. He seemed so real. For the first time, he found himself wanting to go home and be with Youngbae. There was actually someone who was waiting for him. Someone that loved him back. 

      Even though Jiyong had a lot of questions for Youngbae, he had a feeling if he asked them, Youngbae would disappear. And, Jiyong didn't want Youngbae to go. Not now, not until he was out in college. If he went. 

      "You are," Youngbae suddenly said and Jiyong looked at him, a little startled. 

      "How do you know?" Jiyong asked. 

      Youngbae shrugged. "You could and you can," He simply replied. "But you're going for a singing career so who knows?"

      Jiyong laughed. "You're the one who knows my future."

      Youngbae smiled. "You can your future by the things you do in the present, Jiyong." He explained. "But I'm pretty sure whatever you're going to, is something that 

     Youngbae smiled. "I don't know everything, though. Your future can change you know, the things that you do right now." He explained. 

      "Oh," Jiyong said and then the bright sunlight took away his next words as they entered the threshold made of gnarled wood trunks and roots. It was called Geroge's Meadow, an Irish man who, in the legends, say he'd met a fairy in these meadows and brought peace in the forest. It was a place Jiyong loved going and he thought of it as his own hidden hideout. He held Youngbae's hand as they went through and stepped into the grass. 

      Youngbae looked awed as he looked around and Jiyong took note of the surroundings. The gentle breeze that passed and ruffled the trees and grasses as it did. The chirp of the birds and the occasional call of a bigger bird echoed around. The grass whispered as the wind gently touched it, swaying and sharing it nature-filled secrets. It looked like a place out from a fantasy novel, a place that really could hide fairies. 

      "Thank you," Youngbae said quietly. "For bringing me here."

      Jiyong was smiling so when he turned to face Youngbae, something seemed a little somber. Jiyong's smile slowly faded into a look of confusion as Youngbae smiled a little ruefully. 

       That's when Jiyong finally realized. 

       His time with Youngbae was limited. It was dying out. Burning out soon. 

       Eyebrows furrowing a little with pain, Jiyong shook his head, voice breaking. "Don't, Youngbae. Let's not...let's not talk about that right now," Jiyong said, taking his face into his hands. "Please, just stay with me right now."

       Youngbae nodded. "Of course, Jiyong."

       But it sounded empty. 

 

       Youngbae took off his shirt, muscles flexing as he turned back to shoot Jiyong a smile that was bright as the sun. He let out a shout, cannonballing into the water with a large splash. Jiyong laughed as he pulled on his sunglasses, a hand sliding though his hair to keep his bangs back. He saw Youngbae shake his head, sending a light spray and gesturing for him to jump in. Jiyong only smiled, titlting his head back into a laugh as he sat on the edge of the pier, dipping his feet into the cold water. "Ah, that's cold!" Jiyong exclaimed. 

        "Come on," Youngbae said, swimming in front of him, arms out as if to catch him. "It's not that bad."

        Jiyong slid into the water, bracing his bar skin for the cold waters. Youngbae's strong arms wrapped securely around his waist, holding him up as Jiyong laughed, his skin getting used to the chilly temperature. 

        "The sun's not even out and you're wearing sunglasses?" Youngbae neared his face to Jiyong, a hand coming up to push the sunglasses on top of his head as he kissed his nose. 

         Jiyong held onto him and Youngbae's nose was nudging into his neck, breathing in as Jiyong giggled, tilting his head a little to give him more room. Youngbae was smiling against his skin and Jiyong felt his lips kiss his collarbones. "This is getting a little sexy," Youngbae commented and Jiyong laughed again. "No, really, and it's not me."

        "What, you're telling me I'm the one making the atmosphere sexy?" Jiyong suggested. 

        "Your body isn't exactly the most masculine body I've seen," Youngbae said and Jiyong smirked. 

        "What kind of bodies have you seen, hm?" Jiyong said, nearing his face closer to Youngbae's so that their lips were almost touching. 

        "Just yours,' Youngbae whispered and kissed him. 

        Jiyong let out a small sigh through his nose and felt lips, wet with water, sliding against his. It wasn't really tongue-engaging; there was just more, sliding lips and heavy breaths. It was a kiss Jiyong loved from Youngbae. A kiss that felt right and warm, hot with love, and Jiyong was pulled into as the kiss turned deeper. But Youngbae was right, the atmophere was getting sexier by the minute. 

        Youngbae suddenly pulled away, his lips red, water droplets outling his face as he stared at Jiyong. He looked ruffled, and Jiyong didn't have to look inside a mirror to know how he looked like. Youngbae's eyes moved down to his lips and self-consciously, Jiyong took his lower lip between his teeth and Youngbae's Adam's apple moved into a swallow. 

         Jiyong giggled, hiding his face into his shoulder. "Oh my god," He said, feeling a deep flush against his ears, neck, and face. 

        There was a chuckle from Youngbae and Jiyong hid his face in his arms. "God, Youngbae, I swear-" Jiyong was laughing now and so was Youngbae. 

        It was an amazing feeling and all Jiyong wanted was to stay like this. Stay with Youngbae. Listen to his clear humming, hear him laugh, hear his cheesy lines, just  _Youngbae._ To Jiyong, there was no one else he needed. 

 

         There was a book Jiyong kept in his closet, away from his father's eyes. It was book he found his his mother's room before she left, a Korean book. It was a hardcover book with illustrations on things couples do. Jiyong would always look at it and envy how great it'd be do have someone to brush your teeth with, to play Jenga with, or to even cuddle with. Now, he didn't really have to feel it. 

          So really, it'd been a surprise to see Youngbae read it on his bed after he came back home from school. He looked a little fond and understanding and Jiyong watched with amusement as Youngbae put small tabs on each page. "Page 36, Cuddling," He'd murmur. 

          Jiyong didn't notice all the sweet things Youngbae did was from the book. It made Jiyong cry a little with happiness. 

          

          Jiyong wrapped his arms around Youngbae's waist, leaning into his warm back. "Thank you," Jiyong said in the morning when he found Youngbae cooking breakfast. 

          Youngbae chuckled and after palcing the pan with eggs safely aside, he hugged Jiyong. "I've always wanted to do this for you anyway."

         Jiyong gave him a knowing look. "I know you just tabbed all the things you thought I wanted in that book."

         Youngbae laughed, a small dust of pink on his cheeks. "Yeah, okay, I admit that."

         Jiyong pulled his cheeks fondly. 

         

         Pressing his nose into the crook of Youngbae' neck and shoulder, he closed his eyes, shivering. The sheets were thin and they were twisting into Jiyong's legs into a hold as Youngbae's warm arms and body kept him warm. He could smell peaches and sun-warmed sheets on Youngbae. "You smell good," Jiyong murmured. 

         "You too," Youngbae murmured in his ear. "You kinda smell like newly washed sheets."

         Jiyong giggled and looked up at Youngbae who smiled down at him. He didn't like how his bangs covered his eyes so Jiyong pulled his arm from his side and gently parted the bangs. Youngbae stared at him and Jiyong stared at his face. He was handsome no matter what Youngbae said. Jiyong watched his face in the moonlit room. Their eyes met and Jiyong felt a blush creep on his face. He suddenly felt self-conscious and Jiyong was about to bury his face into Youngbae's chest when Youngbae kissed the tip of his nose, making Jiyong freeze. 

       "Don't," Youngbae whispered. "I want to see you."

       Jiyong smiled and stroked Youngbae's cheek. "I want to see you too."

      Youngbae pulled Jiyong closer than ever, laying his chin gently on Jiyong's head. "Good night, Jiyong."

      Jiyong hummed, already feeling sleep capture him. "Good night," He murmured before sleeping. 

 

      One and a half week passed. They were almost done with all the things Youngbae tabbed in the book and before they knew it, only one was left. Jiyong didn't know what it was since Youngbae only told him there was one left. He wouldn't tell him either. So everyday, especially the weekends, Jiyong would wake up to Youngbae cooking and waking him up for school. They'd do things together, like recording the covers Jiyong produced, or making lyrics together. They'd talk about how Jiyong felt alone in school even if there was Seunghyun. 

      Until, the door suddenly slammed open when Jiyong and Youngbae were making out in his room. Hurriedly, Jiyong pulled on his shirt and pants, chest thrumming with the familiar fear. Youngbae had disappeared and he could hear the loud footsteps getting louder and the light spilled inside Jiyong's dark room as he sat on the bed. Jiyong gaped at his father, chest aching from the thrums. "Hi," Jiyong greeted with a shaky voice. "Welcome home."

       Jiyong could barely make out his father with the light behind him but he did see digust written over his face as he looked around. "Aren't you glad that I left," He commented, eyes sweeping the messy room. The recording instruments in front of the computer, the fairy lights hung up around the room, the mess Youngbae and Jiyong made when they dug into his closet, and then--Jiyong felt his heart stop altogether--his eyes noticed the book on the floor, still splayed open. He could feel the fear rising in his throat as his father stooped down to pick it up. He heard a huff. "A couple date book? Your mother still kept this trash?" He said and Jiyong felt himself trembling in fear.  _Oh no. No no no no._ He thought and desperately screamed Youngbae's name in his head. "You even kept tabs?" His father looked up at him and Jiyong met his icy glare. "For what? Do you have someone to do all this shit? Did you invite all your friends to the empty house and have sex? Are you really some kind of," His father grew nearer and nearer with every insult. "Some kind of  _whore?_ "

      "No," Jiyong blurted, crawling backwards into the wall on his bed. He suddenly didn't feel safe. He wasn't even wearing jeans. He was exposed. And he could feel eyes trail over his body. "No," Jiyong repeated, as it it would stop everything. 

      His father sneered. "I can smell it," He said and Jiyong sat still, eyes wide, fingers tight. "The smell of sex in here. It reeks."

       _Youngbae._

      "I knew you were some kind of sexually frustrated kiddo. You acted like a fucking faggot, always wearing shorts, dying your hair blonde. What are you, a gay faggot?" His father was on the edge of the bed now, eyes raging, expression enraged. "Are you trying to seduce someone like that?" His voice was low. 

       _No, no, that isn't--I'm not..._ Jiyong felt tears trail down his face as he could only anguishly think those words in his head silently. He never invited friends. He knew his father liked order and organizations so Jiyong never ever brought anyone. He never was one looking for sex. He was never frustrated sexually. He just wanted to be loved and he did. "No," Jiyong whispered. 

      Another cruel sneer. "Fucking faggot," Suddenly, his hand whipped forward and grasped Jiyong by the wrist, pulling him forward. "I will fucking show you the way you want it. You were trying to seduce someone, well, you suceeeded." 

      Jiyong was screaming now. "No, no, no!" He was being dragged, and he struggled, sobbing until he cried out his name. "Youngbae!" He screamed. 

     His father went still in the lit hallway and Jiyong finally realized what he had said.  _Fuck. Shit. No, no,no-_ Jiyong yelped when his father suddenly shoved him against the wall. "I knew it, you slut," His father hissed. "You were doing it with some guy, you digusting little shit."

       _I was but not in that way!_ Jiyong wanted to explain but his father was on him, trapping his arms abive his head, a knew in between his legs and Jiyong screamed in fear. He could already feel his father pulling his shorts down with his free hand, shoving his hand inside and Jiyong sobbed, his chest hurting with every beat of his heart. "Please!" Jiyong sobbed. "Anything, anything but this..."

      "Shut the fuck up, this is what you wanted," His father grasped his cock and Jiyong gasped. "You wanted to be fucked. Of course you did. You were shoving your ass everywhere. And, you're the whore everyone wanted to fuck." 

      Jiyong violently shook his head, vision swarming with tears. "Please, no, I wasn't!" He begged. "Please," Jiyong could feel his father pull out his belt from his waist and Jiyong struggled with everything he had.  _Youngbae. Where are you?_ Jiyong screamed.  _Where are you?_

      "Stay still you fucking faggot," His father hissed, slapping him across the cheek. "Stop fucking struggingling. Just fucking show me how you fuck with people, you whore."

       _Stop, stop, stop._ Jiyong hated the feeling of disgust crawling up his stomach, making him feel suck. The hand on his thighs, the hand that trapped his arms above his head, the knee that dug painfully against his crotch. "Youngbae," Jiyong whispered. 

       "Who the fuck is Youngbae!?" His father roared and Jiyong screeched when he felt teeth bite into his neck, biting deep until the skin broke. "This is what you wanted, so you get it." His father said in his ear and finally, Jiyong heard the slam of the door being open and numerous footsteps. "Hands up!" Someone yelled. "Now!"

       "Fuck," His father threw Jiyong onto the ground and backed away. From the ground, Jiyong could see feet. Many and then he saw the red and white shoes. Looking up, he saw Seunghyun, running at him from the front, calling his name out with rage and worry all across his face. "Jiyong!"

        _Why?_ Jiyong felt arms pull him up on his feet, something heavy around his shoulders, strong hands around his back and legs, carrying him as he hear loud voices and sirens. Eveything became blurry and slow as he went limp.  _Why didn't you save me Youngbae? You promised._ Jiyong cried at the thought as he remembered the page left open before his father came in. 

        _190\. Kissing in the sunset._

 

      

   

       

  

     


End file.
